


Ineligible

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: (sort of lol), F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holiday Fic Exchange, Holidays, JA Secret Santa, JA Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: She was angry. She'd panicked. Jupiter wouldn't deny either of these things. But maybe telling people that Caine was her date would somehow work out for the best?





	Ineligible

**Author's Note:**

> A Secret Santa gift for Lizteph! <3 
> 
> Original prompt: Jupiter/Caine xmas fake dating

"What an asshole," Jupiter breathed, imbuing so much disgust into the word that Kiza choked on her soda. Stinger started thumping her on the back with an indifferent air. Like the rest of them, he was a little too engrossed in the invitation to notice inconsequential stuff. Like his daughter dying.

 

"He's indeed known for his... strong opinions, Your Majesty," T'sing said. Jupiter raised an eyebrow at the word choice and T’sing began to fidget. "My apologies. However, Vance is quite powerful in his sector of space, especially now that so much of Abrasax Industry has fallen into disarray. Not that that is your fault! I simply mean...well…"  T'sing bit hard into her lower lip, a small smile tugging there. "Perhaps I should shut up now?"

 

Jupiter groaned.

 

It was true enough. Balem might be dead and buried, but the problems he'd started still haunted Jupiter like a particularly vengeful ghost. She'd never wanted ownership of Earth—just to know that her planet was safe—but in her official status as a Recurrence the former is what she'd been saddled with. She was seen as a farmer unwilling to harvest her 'crops,' a young woman with no knowledge or training in how to run an intergalactic business. It didn't surprise anyone that her share of Abarasax Industry hadn't been doing too well lately and though on the surface Jupiter really didn't give a damn, it did mean that other, powerful players were trying to take advantage.

 

Like this guy. Vance. 

 

Called by some the Grandmaster of the Stars, others the galaxy's foremost playboy, he was the exact sort of sleaze that Jupiter had spent her teenage years learning to avoid. When the invitation to his annual ball had been delivered last night—by a pair of alien women reminiscent of Princess Leia in her bikini, holy _shit_ —Jupiter had been tempted to send a message back telling him to stuff the pretty paper where the sun don't shine. However that, apparently, was frowned upon. 

 

"You're important now," Kiza had said, imparting wisdom around a mouthful of chips. "You gotta set examples and stuff—and so does he. So if you refuse his invitation, especially as a newbie recurrence, it's going to be super insulting. And yeah, sure, who cares about that asshat's feelings, right? Except _he_ cares. He's got the image to maintain. So maybe Vance retaliate. Maybe he pulls some other planets into the mix, people you haven't even gotten to meet yet… before you know it you've got a boatload of enemies that are gonna make Balem look like a toddler having a temper tantrum..." 

 

Somehow Jupiter doubted that—nothing like giving a spoiled white boy massive amounts of power and then setting him loose—but she understood where Kiza was coming from. She'd seen enough _West Wing_ and _The Good Wife_ to know how ever the simplest slip could screw you over in politics. And sure, maybe she shouldn’t be taking advice from the TV, but that was the only thing offering up advice at the moment.

 

God, she hated politics. 

 

Now Stinger drummed his hand on the living room table, eyes considering. "We also need to take into consideration that this might be a trap." Stinger shrugged at their horrified looks. "I won't deny that he has a history of prejudice, but I also can't be the only one to have noticed that this removes nearly all of your protection." He tapped the gilded paper.

 

True enough. A quick search, the equivalent of Space Google, had shown Jupiter that Vance really was as xenophobic as his invitation implied. Inviting Jupiter to this gala was one thing, but actively _not_ inviting any splices sent another message entirely. It was right there on the page: no splices allowed, even when they were members of a royal guard.

 

So no Stinger. No Kiza. No Chicanery even. T'sing could come, technically, but somehow Jupiter didn't think that bringing a cop with her would set the right tone. And certainly this meant no...

 

"What do you think?"

 

Caine had remained quiet in the corner of the room. Jupiter watched his ears perk forward as she hailed him, eyes considering.

 

"I think you should do whatever you wish, Your Majesty." Caine inclined his head. "And I will support your decision."

 

What Jupiter wanted was to forget this entire fiasco, but being a Space Queen or whatever the hell she was came with a whole bunch of shitty rules. So if she couldn't spend Christmas Eve at home in her candy cane pajamas, at the very least Jupiter wanted Caine with her. And yet... 

 

She held up a finger—a stupid, horrible, risky idea slamming into her brain. 

 

"What if I brought a splice... who didn't _look_ like a splice?"

 

T'sing's eyebrows rose into her hair. Stinger furrowed his brow and Kiza cackled around her drink. Caine only cocked his head, lines of his body tightening like he was preparing to enter into battle.

 

Jupiter shrugged. "Just how stupid is this Vance guy?"

 

***

 

Pretty stupid as it turned out. 

 

Oh, making Cane pass as human—or at least a non-splice humanoid—had been no easy task. The physical aspects they’d dealt with quickly enough: holographic earrings to change the shape of his ears, makeup to remove his distinctive tattoos, and hormone adaptors to ensure that none of the aliens present could smell the wolf in him. All that took just a few hours, no longer than it took Jupiter to get ready for the ball herself. Kiza had secured her a lavender gown that looked like it had been stitched out of galaxies, every sparkle shining like a star along Jupiter’s bodice, hips, and back. Making sure that the guy didn't outshine the girl, Stinger had dressed his awkward friend in simple, human tux.

 

So. Physically, Cane looked great.

 

It was the _personality_ that still needed work.

 

"Walk with me," Jupiter hissed, tugging on his arm so that Caine fell into step beside her. He'd been keeping two paces back this whole time—in the position of a servant.

 

She felt his fingers spasm on her arm. "Apologies, Your Majesty."

 

" _Caine_."

 

"... Jupiter." 

 

And shit if he wasn't adorable when he blushed. It still boggled her mind that this was the same man who had caught her falling off rooftops and taken out whole groups of fighters, soaring through the air with death at his fingertips. With her Caine was a different man. Someone... softer. Gentle.  

 

"Queen Jupiter!" a man said and Jupiter was snatched out of her thoughts. She found herself ushered to the front of the long line they’d been waiting in. There a butler-type stood with a massive digital pad, hundreds of names digitally written out in icy blue. Jupiter noticed the wiring that blended into his wrist as he scrolled and scrolled and scrolled. Finally, he stopped.

 

The man smiled at her. It was simpering and too fake for her liking. "There you are. Queen Jupiter Jones, First Recurrence of Seraphi Abrassax, Primary Heir to Abrasax Industries, the most _eligible_ woman in this galaxy… or any other I’d imagine," and the man dropped a wink that sent a chill down Jupiter's spine. "Vance will be _most_ pleased to see you."

 

So that was his game. Not just currying favor; not just following the rules. Vance had invited Jupiter in the spirit of every asshole boy who'd ever asked Jupiter to their place to 'hang.'

 

Netflix and chill had just gotten a whole lot swankier.

 

Jupiter didn't realize how sharp her own smile had become. Really, she didn't hear the words until they were already out of her mouth.

 

"Actually, I'm not eligible. This is my boyfriend and you can mark him off as my plus one... in _all_ things."

 

Okay. That last part probably hadn't been necessary. The wiring up around the man's neck let off a few stray sparks, like his shock had come close to short circuiting him. Whatever. Jupiter assumed the check-in was done and went to brush past him, indifferent.

 

The issue with that was the iron obstacle holding her back.

 

"Oh _honey_ ," Jupiter drew in a deep breath. "Let's go. We don't want to be late, now do we?"

 

Caine nodded, but it was a numb gesture. It took a second for him to close his mouth and another for Jupiter to get his legs moving. Caine walked into the ballroom like an automaton and the servant stared after him, almost like he thought he really was artificial. And wouldn't that be great gossip for the tabloids: Jupiter Jones, dating a robot. She was sure the fact that she was dating anyone would be headline news in certain circles. It would come as one hell of a surprise.

 

Especially considering that she wasn't, in fact, dating Caine. Yeah, they'd shared a kiss back when there was death and destruction about, when they both might not make it out alive, blah-de-blah-blah... but that was very different from agreeing to date. They just... hadn't discussed it.

 

And judging by Caine's expression, he sure as hell hadn't been making any assumptions.

 

"Breathe," Jupiter whispered. She'd never regretted his lack of verbal communication before, but sometimes Caine was just too damn silent, especially when Big and Important things were going on. The embodiment of 'actions speak louder than words' was great and all, except when you sprung something like that on him and words were all they had left.

 

Because actions? Caine didn't look like he could lift his arms at the moment, let alone do anything more.

 

"Keep breathing," Jupiter murmured. "I know. I'm an asshole queen. You can yell at me later. Just look at all the pretty lights for now. _Jesus_ this guy is loaded."

 

In truth Jupiter was beginning to panic a bit herself. She'd said the thing, a thing she _wanted_ to be true, and instead of accepting or refuting it Caine was a living, breathing plank of wood at her side, silent and immobile—so yeah, there was a tiny ball of anxiety beginning to ease its way up her throat. But that was fine. Totally cool. Because Vance was loaded as hell and honestly? Jupiter couldn't fault him for his decorations.

 

The ballroom they'd walked into was the primary part of his ship, a vessel Jupiter had beamed over to (T'sing: "We don't call it 'beaming,' Your Majesty." "Dammit, let me have this") and immediately categorized as just another, military-focused craft. Because that's where Vance's primary business lay, apparently. In weapons. Like Jupiter didn't need more reasons to hate the guy. The point though was that the gray, sleek rooms hadn't come as a surprise. This on the other hand...

 

It looked like they'd stepped into something out of a fairy tale—or maybe straight out of a dream. There were lights everywhere, many of which looked like they were floating, though Jupiter knew that had to be a trick of the eye. Some complex technology that just simulated levitation. Same with the snow; pure, white powder drifting down from the ceiling... yet when Jupiter raised a hand to catch some it wasn't cold, nor did it leave her skin feeling wet. Between the elaborate buffet tables to their right and the number of guests who'd chosen red and green for their outfits, it honestly looked like an Earth kid's perfect Christmas.

 

....suspiciously like that, honestly. Jupiter wondered just how far Vance was willing to go for her 'eligibility.'

 

Too bad she was taken.

 

Sort of.

 

"Are you breathing yet?"

 

"...not as such, Your Majesty. _Jupiter_ ," Caine amended and she didn't know whether to smack him or hug him, good god. He did come back to himself though, snatching two drinks from a waiter as he passed by, a tray balanced in one hand while his tail held the other. Caine watched the bubbles floating through the pink liquid before handing one to her. 

 

There was something... reserved, in his expression. Oh, most would say he was always stony-face; unreadable. But Jupiter knew the difference. Caine had grown closed off sometime between this second and the last.

 

It didn't take a genius to figure out why. Jupiter sipped at her drink (strawberries, yum) and waited. Sure enough, after just a few more moments—

 

"I... appreciate your strategy here. Very thorough. No one will suspect that I'm a splice now."

 

He kept his voice low, due to their secrets, but Jupiter still thought she could hear a thread of dejection in Caine's voice. Maybe it was just the fact that she _wanted_ to hear it, anything to tell her that she wasn't the only one who'd been thinking about that kiss for weeks now. It was the sort of tiny, fragile thread she never would have pulled at before, lest she risk it unraveling. 

 

But it was Christmas—or near enough, anyway—and Jupiter was on a goddamn spaceship decked out like a five-year old's holiday dream. Somewhere in the crowd of alien beauties there was a trillionaire who wanted to make her the kind of Queen with a King at her side, and though Jupiter was amiable to that idea in theory, she sure as hell couldn't imagine someone like Vance securing the spot.

 

She already _had_ someone at her side, her hand just a hair's breadth from his. And tonight felt like a night of possibilities.

 

"What makes you think it's just strategy," Jupiter murmured. She tried to look sultry over the rim of her glass. Her friend Tina had once said that she just looked stoned when she tried that move. Maybe Caine was into stoned girls though, because Jupiter saw him struggling to swallow.

 

His hand twitched—away from hers. Towards the hip that normally carried his gun, Jupiter noticed, but this wasn't the kind of problem that Caine could shoot his way out of.

 

"Jupiter? I don't understand..."

 

Oh, but he definitely did. That was the most confidently Caine had said her name in ages and Jupiter felt something cool and electric race down her spine.

 

She meandered over to the nearest table to set her glass down, letting her hips swing along the way.  It was only when her back was turned to him that Jupiter quickly downed the rest of the alcohol; for liquid courage and all that. Really, Jupiter wasn't the seducing type, but it seemed that _everything_ she did made Caine's eyes go a little wide, his shoulders tense with desire, and wasn't _that_ the ultimate power trip. By the time she came back Caine had done something with his own glass and Jupiter took advantage of his free hands.

 

Sure, there was probably protocol to follow and alien dances to learn, but for now Jupiter felt she couldn't go wrong with some good old swaying side-to-side. She slipped one hand around Caine's waist and the other into the heart of his palm. Mirroring her, his breath picked up the pace.

 

Jupiter moved closer by a step, her gown brushing against his jacket. Caine stopped breathing instead.

 

"What if I told you that it's not just strategy?" she said softly, thumb stroking his fingers. "Okay yeah. Sure. I definitely floundered back there—" A smile tugged at Caine's lips."—but even if I _hadn't_ wanted an escape plan and we _weren't_ dealing with a xenophobic asshole and this ridiculous ball was just that, normal ridiculousness…If I _just_ wanted to be your date, no strings attached..." Jupiter trailed her hand higher, up Caine's side, shoulder, and to the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered closed a moment, swaying. 

 

"I'd say you're a fool," he whispered. 

 

"That's no way to address your Queen."

 

"But I'm told you're not my Queen. Not tonight." Caine reached to take her hand from his neck. He hesitated, long enough that Jupiter grew worried... but then drew a kiss along her knuckles. “You’d be a fool for choosing a defective splice..." and Caine's mouth returned for another kiss, warm against her fingers. 

 

Actions speaking louder than words.

 

"Luckily for us, you don't make the decisions around here." 

 

Caine didn't refute it and that in and of itself was a miracle. Speaking had never gotten them very far anyway, so Jupiter just nestled closer, laying her head against his chest and wrapping both hands around until they clasped behind Caine's back. She felt him stiffen. Then melt. Caine traced the shape of her ear and pressed a third kiss, briefly, into the depths of her hair. It was all in the gestures. 

 

They danced under the snow and the stars until Jupiter heard her name called from somewhere in the crowd. Vance, no doubt. She looked forward to telling him she wasn't nearly as available as he'd assumed—and having it not be a total lie.

 

The tabloids were going to have a field day tomorrow.


End file.
